Artist's commentary
Holy Run of 2025
By a twist of fate, I ended up living in New York for about a year. It was one of those overseas assignments. I was happy knowing that all the languages I'd studied in hopes of someday using them when I traveled the world finally paid off. It was my dream job. My dream of living overseas. My dream of living alone. And my dream of peace.
Days flew by in a whirlwind, and in the blink of an eye, the year was over. New York, Christmas day, just before dawn. I wasn't swamped with work, but I couldn't sleep that night. Even though it was dwarfed by the surrounding skyscrapers, my rented apartment was on a high floor. And so, with coffee in hand, I gazed down at the lights below, taking in the view. Just watching the city move made me happy. It made me realize my life was utterly ordinary, devoid of anything significant. I graduated from school, got a job at a shipping company, and now I was here. I had no particular experiences to boast of, no encounters with the extraordinary...
"Oh, wait. There was that one time I met Santa Claus."
Much like today, I was alone that quiet night. I think it was the winter of 2017. I stepped away from the desk to brew more coffee.
Clink.
I thought I heard a small sound behind me, but I didn't give it a second thought. I headed to the kitchen, took out a fresh cup, brewed some coffee and cocoa, and returned to the room.
"What? I was trying to surprise you, but you're as calm as ever, huh?"
"Well, yeah," I chuckled, handing him the mug.
It's Christmas, after all. Meeting Santa Claus again isn't all that strange.

Leave a comment